THE GUISE HAD ALLEGEDLY TRAVELLED TO THREE DIFFERENT STATES BY NOW. They trashed police cars, started rallies every other week and even tagged political hashtags on city halls and courts. It was crazy, Naomi had to admit, but the entire country seemed to be their stage. They had millions of followers online and The President had even tweeted about them. Twice. So she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to see that the entire floor of the female dressing room of the Fox Performing Arts Centre was scattered with luminescent paper. After all, the Guise was in Riverside now. Their town would probably never be the same.

When Jessica and Naomi got there, there were a crowd of girls already by the door. They were all holding up the glowing paper and pointing at it excitedly. It took Naomi a few good glances to realize that they were actually flyers. Blues and purples edged the corners and calligraphed the words. Naomi took one up.

The Guise

in affiliation with Your Mom

Presents

Project Z

The rest of the information was a list of party details that Naomi didn't bother to read. As per Jessica's request, she threw it back into the pile on the floor and waited with the rest of the girls for the janitor to come and clean out the room. Jessica applauded her focus and bad-mouthed a few of the elated girls.

But it didn't stop there. For the rest of the time that the girls changed, the flyers they kept were strewn across their tables as they mumbled about being thrilled to go. No one had ever heard of the Guise throwing a party before apparently so Riverside was trending on Twitter. Naomi simply dropped her duffel bag at the table closest to the door and changed there. Even though it was a party for the seniors of Riverside High, it seemed as if everyone was planning on going just because the Guise was throwing it. Even some girls who Naomi was sure were freshman giggled about it incessantly. Naomi quickly did up her hair and left the room.

Thankfully, for the next nine hours, no one mentioned the Guise or their over-the-top party and Naomi's concentration was free to grip each technique by the throat in order to execute them. Ben seemed to have gotten her shoes perfectly this time. Her mother would be proud.

She danced in the white studio, embodying Giselle's humility and shyness in her twisting wrists and bowing head. It wasn't long before it was five in the evening, and the dusty Fox Performance Centre windows saw the yellow rays of the setting sun; Mr Carson abruptly decided to end rehearsal. Relieved dancers dispersed and Aspen bumped right past Naomi. She picked up her water bottle and undid the cap before looking behind her. She smiled at Naomi. Her blonde hair was in a perfect bun yet her forehead was damp as she smiled breathlessly. "Good job today," she commented.

It seemed genuine. Aspen sipped the bottle. "T-thanks," was all Naomi could get out.

She nodded, then swallowed. "So, are you going to the party tonight?"

Naomi didn't think about it. "No, I think I'm just going to stay home."

"Really? That's a shame. I'm sure Jessica would have made you come. If she were here." Aspen quipped in that last part as if it was an afterthought. The surrounding dancers moved and shifted about, yet Naomi felt like her world was grounded. Aspen cocked her head and her blonde ponytail bobbed with the movement. "Don't you think so?"

Naomi stared. She turned to look beside her but there was no one there. The studio walls began closing in.

"Anyway, yeah. you should maybe stay home." Aspen continued, "I don't think it's really your scene." She took another gulp from her bottle then moved off, following the crowd out the door. Naomi watched her, loneliness seeping into her pores. Then her eyes caught Mr Carson packing up. Before he could leave, she stopped him.

"Hi, Mr Carson. I was just wondering, how do you think I'm doing so far?"

His lips set and he nodded. "Your technique is great, Naomi."

She nodded.

Noticing her expectant gaze, Mr Carson sighed. He leaned over to his intern and whispered something that made him scurry off. "Tell me, Naomi, what is Giselle about?" he asked, turning back to her.

She answered easily. "Well, in act one, Giselle is in love with a man who is already betrothed and when she finds out the truth, the despair kills her. Then-"

Mr Carson cut her off. "Have you ever been in love, Naomi?" She looked at him confusedly, her mouth parting and closing erratically. "You don't have to answer that. I already know the answer. It's painfully apparent."

"I don't understand." Naomi paused. "What does that have to do with the ballet?"

"Ballet is more than technique. I can see how hard you're working and that's great. But you dance like a robot. There's no passion. No love or heartbreak. You can't sell this performance of a girl in a constant battle between love and despair if you don't even know what any of that means." He said it as if it was the simplest, most basic idea to have ever existed.

But it was ridiculous. How can she be dancing well, but not be dancing well at the same time? "I'm confused. To get the role I have to be in love?"

"To get the role, Naomi, you have to feel." Naomi stood there for a few seconds, soaking in Mr Carson's simple advice and trying to make sense of it. She loved dancing. It made her parents happy. Kept her stable. She felt that. How did he not see that?

He inhaled. "Maybe if you put some of that grief-"

"-What grief?" she interrupted.

Naomi watched him choose his words this time. Mr Carson never did that. "With Jessica," he answered slowly. His head lowered to match her height and sincerity glossed his eyes. "Look, as dancers more often than not we have to take the bad things that happen to us and dance them out. It can be our closure in a sense."

Closure? "I...I don't know what you mean." Jessica appeared behind the man. She was hugging her elbows and biting her bottom lip. "I got closure. From the funeral."

"Did you?" The studio whistled hollow. "Naomi, you didn't shed a tear."

She twisted the fabric of her skirt on her index finger and chuckled anxiously. "I'm fine. Really."

He nodded. "Of course you are." He gathered himself and told her, "Emotions are a dancer's asset, Naomi," before heading out the door.

That evening, Naomi walked home alongside Jessica in silence.

Author's Note
Okay but who's the better life coach, Jessica or Mr. Carson? I think I'd pick Mr. Carson just bc I don't play w/ ghosts. Hell to the no.

This week's dedication goes to the amazing @SincerelyBreezy just because her constant votes and comments keep me going! Fam ilysm and thank you for the support. I'd get an office job if it weren't for you gassing me up ❤️. If you vote, comment and share the next dedication could be you!

Also, do you think Naomi should go to the party and find herself a mans! (Bc I do...) and on a scale of 1-10 how much do you think she needs "closure"?

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

"Do you think Misty Copeland cries?" Naomi blurted, atop the store counter.

"Oh,definitely," Ben answered. "Have you seen that smile? You can only smile likethat after you've shed your fair amount of tears." Naomi couldn't help butwonder what kind of smile she had herself. In the quiet of Ben's EquipmentStore, Riverside felt worlds away. Normally, if she tried hard enough, Naomicould forget about the Academy and just sit there with Ben. They'd talk aboutnothing and everything and be at peace in their small limbo. But today...